Grade: 3.5/5.0
The ‘90’s rock icon Sheryl Crow added yet another album to her extensive catalog — one that already spans the worlds of rock, pop, country, folk and blues. What’s different about her latest record Evolution is that Crow did not produce it herself. The seasoned artist stated in a press release, “There’s a point where you get tired of what you do, you recognize your tricks, you despair of them.” Rather, she passed the baton to Mike Elizondo, the super-producer notably behind “In Da Club,” and less notably, a short-lived bass player in Crow’s band.
Long-time listeners may notice this shift in production as Elizondo injects a more mainstream, utilitarian approach to the classic Crow characteristics. Ultimately, he shifts the album to be more radio-friendly, appealing to a new, younger crowd of listeners. While at times overproduced and leaning too heavily on obvious pitch manipulation, Crow’s unique guitar hooks and live percussion heard in previous releases prevail.
The LP is an introspective work that showcases her signature sound while also exploring new territory. Its lyrics feel pulled straight from archives — a page ripped out of Crow’s diary — ranging from youthful summers to adult struggles. The artist raises thought-provoking questions throughout the play, such as "Who will we be when we're older?" and "Where goes the wave when it hits the shore?" Crow distinctly ponders these colossal questions through superb songwriting.
In 2019, Crow told All Things Considered that her previous record Threads would be her very last album, going as far as to call album-making "a dying art form." Yet on March 29, 2024, Crow is caught in a lie as Evolution was released to the world.
The title track is a poignant look at the human condition and the ever-changing nature of modern life, ushering listeners in with Crow’s warm vocals. With a deeply personal feel, the pop icon stands tall on her pedestal, echoing her emblematic whistled hooks as she imparts waves of wisdom to future generations in tracks such as “Waiting in the Wings.”
As Evolution evolves, tracks such as “Broken Record” reveal themselves to resemble the ‘90’s pop ballads Crow first rose to fame for — though her attempts to sound current felt a bit contrived given her iconic status. Thoughts of butterfly clips and Game Boys circulate (Crow even includes a line that shouts out her mom), cementing her teenage drama queen title at a ripe 62 years old. Listeners could grasp the notion that Sheryl seemingly is stuck in the past — some might even take delight in the singer’s standstill nature; yet, when Crow belts lines such as “But now I’m unfriending” in the same track, it’s difficult to deny her labored efforts to remain relevant.
The recording resurgence of celebrated artists like Crow spurs feelings of nostalgia and appreciation from marathon fans. Yet among the efforts to recapture past glory, there persists a “try hard” element that proves difficult to neglect.
Though the haunting whisper that opens “You Can't Change the Weather” (“I remember what it’s like to feel forgotten”) may evoke motivation behind her resurgence, this album transcends any desire to chase a comeback akin to Cher’s illustrious renaissance. Rather, the album surfaces as a testament that the seasoned star remains ripe with creative energy longing for expression.
It’s as though Crow is experiencing terminal lucidity in the form of songwriting. The phenomenon that occurs prior to a person’s passing — queuing an end-of-life energy surge that often leads to reflective breakthroughs and meaningful conversations. The veteran vocalist’s industry tomb seems to be ready, as this album provides the perspicuity of a youthful and animated Crow while revealing raw life experiences acknowledging the “f---ups along the way.”
Evolution is an album that harbors a certain level of intimacy with its audience, sharing stories of strawberry wine and Fake IDs while exposing tales of turbulence and looming regrets. She gives her fans a valuable inside look at her layered memories and battle-scarred perspectives. Though at times superficial, Crow’s wistful yet upbeat storytelling showcases her signature sound blended with a matured perspective that the past party-girl pop anthem princess might not have been capable of.
